


A Hard Lesson

by TheWeirdDane



Series: The Gift That Keeps On Giving [4]
Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Adult Valkyrie Cain, Belly Rubs, Breathplay, Choking, Dom/sub Undertones, Hair-pulling, Handcuffs, Kissing, M/M, No Aftercare, No Lube, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Restraints, Shameless Smut, Spanking, Sub Drop, light begging, light spoilers concerning skulduggery and lord vile, technically there is but it comes a bit late
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-09 00:10:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17396393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeirdDane/pseuds/TheWeirdDane
Summary: Solomon Wreath meets up with Skulduggery Pleasant in the Sanctuary. They exchange a few words, and Solomon says something he shouldn't - something that Skulduggery won't let him forget.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the next part!

Not many Necromancers ever left the Temple - this was a well-known fact. Just as well-known was it that the one Necromancer who regularly did leave the Temple to walk in the outside world was Solomon Wreath. With his walking cane and lack of robes he didn’t cut as odd or suspicious a figure as his brothers and sisters.

Besides, he was the only one barely tolerating Skulduggery Pleasant - his feelings for the detective were still in the dark for even himself - and this was precisely the man he was going to meet with. The other Necromancers weren’t a big fan of him, which Solomon understood only all too well. He used to loathe the skeleton detective as much as any guy who had been on the business end of his revolver. Now, however, he wasn’t so sure.

Ever since Skulduggery and he had shared Valkyrie Cain at the Requiem ball, Solomon hadn’t been able to shake the thoughts of Skulduggery. He kept thinking about how smooth and velvety his voice was, how broad and dexterous his fingers. The snide comments that made his heart clench but also dance. The way he dressed, always looking so goddamn impeccable. Solomon wasn’t sure if he loved or loathed it.

But rest assured that he _wanted_ to loathe it.

It was a nice and warm day. The sun was out and bathed the streets in a pleasant light, and it was a joy to walk on the narrow sidewalk, his cane tapping rhythmically against the cobblestone. Solomon didn’t see the meaning behind staying in the Temple all day and all night - it just seemed so extra and unnecessarily secretive. They didn’t _have_ to hide, yet they seemed completely content with doing so. He was the only one who got out regularly, and he enjoyed it immensely.

It was all a bit backwards to Solomon. But although he was a powerful and influential Necromancer, he didn’t have the power or authority to change their ways. It was age-old tradition, had always been that way and probably always would be.

He reached the Sanctuary and saw a gleaming Bentley parked in the parking lot. A small, wry smile found its way onto his face, and for a fraction of a second, the urge to go over and run his hand along the bonnet gripped his heart tightly. But he fought against it - Skulduggery would have his head on a silver platter if he got wind of it.

So instead, Solomon walked through the doors to the Sanctuary, his cane click-click-clicking against the overly polished floor and drawing the sorcerers’ attention to him. He ignored them and their whispers but found a secret sort of joy in being the center of attention. Nonchalantly, he walked down the long corridors and passed several rooms where people were arguing or reading. He had been here before, albeit only few times, but so far, nothing had changed, and as such, he knew exactly where to find Skulduggery Pleasant.

The skeleton detective stood against a wall and talked with another sorcerer. Solomon got his attention by waving a hand but remained at a respectful distance. He busied himself with his phone - Valkyrie had gotten him addicted to this game called Angry Birds - and waited for Skulduggery. In the beginning, he was unimpressed, had seen it as just another way to waste your time with pointless, mortal technology. But then Valkyrie had let him play on her phone, and it hadn’t taken him long to take a liking to the small green pigs and the many kinds of birds.

A week after he had tried the game on Valkyrie’s phone, he had downloaded the game himself _and_ beaten her high-score. Valkyrie had been _pissed_ and adamant that he didn’t play anymore.

Solomon had just grinned.

Skulduggery walked over to him and waited impatiently for him to finish the game. When Solomon finally lost, he put his phone in his pocket and looked up at the skeleton detective. It still annoyed him that he had to crane his neck a bit to look into his face, but he would be damned if he admitted it.

There were many things he would be damned to admit.

“Solomon,” Skulduggery said.

“Skulduggery,” Solomon said with a polite bow of his head. It was weird, being civilized with him after so many years of what could be called war. But a part of Solomon wanted to be civilized with him, _possibly_ wanted more, and every day, he fought to force down that part of himself. It was hard work, and up until now, he had succeeded. But every day, it got harder, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could deny it. He refused to believe it was something as ridiculous as _love_ , but that part of him _wanted_ to portrait it as such.

It was bizarre and absurd, and he refused to let those feelings consume him. Refused to let them surface and embarrass him.

“How have you been?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant, and leaned against the wall with his hands folded around the cane. Skulduggery raised an eyebrow.

“Since when do we exchange pleasantries?” Solomon shrugged and smiled.

“Now’s as good a time as any to begin, don’t you think? It’s time we put all this rivalry behind us. For Valkyrie’s sake.” Skulduggery didn’t look like he agreed with him, but he didn’t say anything. “So, I ask you again, detective, how have you been?”

“Fine,” Skulduggery asked gruffly and looked around them, almost as if he was afraid someone would catch them talking. Heaven forbid. “What about you?” Solomon’s smile widened.

“Now, was that really so hard? I have been grand.”

“Our last session wasn’t too hard on you?” Immediately, Solomon’s smile faltered, and his head whirled around to check if anyone could have heard. There were a few sorcerers behind them, but it didn’t appear they had heard anything. But the _nerve_! Solomon seethed.

“Not in public!” he whispered, horrified and embarrassed. His grip of his cane tightened. Now it was Skulduggery’s turn to smile, and it was a smug one, way too pleased with himself, and Solomon wanted to kiss the stupid look off his face.

He frowned catching himself thinking that, and immediately correcting it to wanting to _punch_ the stupid look off his face. Much better.

Skulduggery shrugged.

“I’ll do what I want.”

“Maybe I’ll put a stopper to your plans,” Solomon said defiantly.

“And how do you plan on doing that? I don’t even have any plans you can stop.”

“I know about you and Vile.” It was said before he knew what he was really saying, and it was clear immediately upon saying them that it had been a mistake. Skulduggery crossed his arms and tilted his head the slightest bit, but it was enough that Solomon knew he had fucked up. The anger had flared up within a second and was so clear he could practically feel it reach out and squeeze him tightly.

Skulduggery left. He left Solomon standing there, alone in the Sanctuary save for the many sorcerers walking and hurrying around him. But as he watched the skeleton detective walk away, Solomon felt alone and oddly cold. Something that shouldn’t bother him - he had lived almost his entire life in the Irish Temple, and the Temples were known to be colder than an old grave.

Again, that little voice crept up in the back of his head.

_Love._

Solomon grimaced and gripped his cane tighter before walking out of the Sanctuary.

During the rest of the day, he kept texting Skulduggery to try and smooth things over. Small things like “I didn’t mean anything with it,” and “I’m truly sorry for implying I would blackmail you,” and “Would you please respond?”

He hated having to text such things, but even more, he hated that he got no reply. At least he didn’t for a while.

In the evening, he finally got a text back from Skulduggery. Given how the skeleton detective couldn’t shut up, Solomon had expected and prepared for it to be a long text, explaining what was wrong with what he said and why he shouldn’t have said it.

Instead, it was two words and a time.

“My house, 21:00.”

Solomon swallowed heavily. He was going to kill him, wasn’t he? Skulduggery would murder him for knowing about the relation between him and Lord Vile, he was sure of it. But then again, it was probably nothing less than what he deserved.

With this mindset, Solomon paced around his room for about an hour - time passed by so slow! - before he couldn’t take it anymore. He got a cab to drive him to Cemetery Road even though the clock was only eight-thirty in the evening.

As he got out of the car, he glanced up at the house by the end of the pathway. Swallowed heavily. On slightly shaky feet, he walked up the pathway and knocked on the door, a bit meekly. He had his cane in his right hand and leaned against it, trying to appear calm and collected. He tried to tell himself that he was a steadfast and resolute man - he wasn’t going to let Skulduggery intimidate him. The grip of the cane tightened.

The door opened, and Skulduggery stood on the other side. He wasn’t wearing his façade, but even without a face, he looked calm. Way too calm. It was unnerving. Very unnerving. He was dressed in a suit - what a surprise - that cut a very striking, and handsome, figure. It was midnight blue, and he wore a crisp, white shirt beneath it. The trousers were the exact same shade of blue as the suit jacket, and a thick, black leather belt were pushed between the hoops. His shoes were gleaming black.

Solomon’s throat suddenly felt too tight. It was hard to breathe now, and he expected to be punched in the face. But no fist came for him.

“Hello,” he said, still a tad meekly, and remained eye contact even if he wanted to look away. Skulduggery looked _very_ menacing like this, all stoic and calm and cool, with his arms folded and his head cocked slightly to one side.

He didn’t say anything, simply stepped aside to let Solomon in. Solomon did so, entering the house with the memory of last time he did that fresh in his mind. When he stood in the living room, he once more expected Skulduggery to knock him out. But still, no fist to his face. Which was good - he was rather fond of his face.

“So---”

“Undress,” Skulduggery said, and there was an edge to his voice that Solomon had rarely heard. Skulduggery reserved that for the bad guys, and it was bad news when he used _that_ voice. Solomon’s heart was starting to beat a little faster instead of being stuck somewhere in his gut. But the words were what made his skin erupt in goosebumps.

“Excuse me?” It was a weak, gruff croak. Skulduggery looked at him, already starting to pull the belt out of the hoops.

“ _Undress_ ,” he said again, the edge intensifying his voice and almost making Solomon wish he weren’t born. But he couldn’t deny what Skulduggery’s voice did to him - he wanted to, heavens forgive him, make love to that voice. He wanted to have that voice swirling inside his mind for the rest of his days, wanted that voice to tell him unspeakable things, make him _do_ unspeakable things.

Solomon swallowed heavily and cast his gaze down at the floor while hesitantly starting to pull off his jacket. Barely had he gotten out of it before Skulduggery yanked it out of his grasp and threw it over the sofa. He folded his arms again, watching Solomon with those empty, empty eye sockets. Clearly waited for him to continue.

Solomon did just that. He shrugged out of his waistcoat, and just as with his jacket, Skulduggery yanked it from his hands and threw it onto the sofa. Next came his shirt, and as Solomon now expected, the skeleton detective grabbed it, tugged, and threw the shirt on top of the waistcoat. He knew he was in over his head, so he didn’t ask why Skulduggery treated him so aggressively - he deserved it. He had prodded at something Skulduggery was very sensitive about, but he hadn’t known exactly _how_ sensitive.

When he was in just his boxers, he got shy and self-conscious. Skulduggery didn’t seem to care for this little fact, simply looked at Solomon with his arms folded and head tilted, now to the other side.

“All of it,” he said, voice coarse and dripping with authority. Solomon looked back at him, somewhat anxious and with a soft sound threatening to escape him, and then shimmied out of his boxers, dropping them on top of his other clothes. Only now did he notice that Skulduggery was still holding the thick leather belt in his right hand.

He came over, and Solomon automatically stepped back and bumped against the sofa. Skulduggery came into his personal space, grabbed him by the hair with his left hand, and started dragging him towards his study.

“Ow, ow!” Solomon hissed and tried tugging Skulduggery’s hand away, but the leather-clad fingers just gripped his hair tighter and kept pulling him forward. The door to the study opened, and Skulduggery threw him into the room, shutting and locking the door behind them. Solomon groaned and put a hand to where Skulduggery’s had been just seconds again, rubbing his sore scalp.

“What in the _bloodiest_ _hell_ was that for?” he hissed and turned to look at Skulduggery. Skulduggery, who still looked so dangerously calm, way too calm, and it was starting to seriously unnerve him. He backed up against the desk, his lower back bumping lightly against the edge, as Skulduggery stepped forward so very slowly. His entire aura was threatening. Solomon had been used to that whenever the two of them were alone, but now it seemed… off. It no longer seemed like Skulduggery was coming for his life. No longer seemed like he was going to straight up murder him.

And that was the most unnerving thing of them all.

“I’m sorry,” he said meekly and lifted his hands in surrender, pressing himself further back against the desk when Skulduggery got into his personal bubble, “I’m sorry, Skulduggery, I shouldn’t have---”

“Bend. Over.” Solomon’s eyes widened, and he looked over his shoulder, at the desk. It didn’t look very comfortable.

“Excuse me?” He had heard what Skulduggery had said, but he silently begged he was wrong.

“ _Bend. Over,_ ” came the order once more, and when Solomon didn’t obey, but rather stood dumbly and just stared for a few seconds, Skulduggery grabbed him by the hair again and forcibly bent him over so his face was smushed against the desk.

Solomon let go of a pained groan and automatically kicked out at the skeleton, but to no avail. His hands scrambled for purchase, but they were quickly snatched up by Skulduggery who handcuffed them together and pressed them against the small of his back.

Not once did he drop his belt, Solomon noticed. The fact that he was still holding on to it practically gave him heart palpitations, and his throat hadn’t unfolded for a second to let him breathe properly. It was all shallow, hasty gulps of air that didn’t provide him with _nearly_ enough oxygen.

“You are going to count,” Skulduggery said, his voice smooth as velvet but with a dangerous edge to it. Solomon had always admired that voice and that particular edge but had never wanted to be on the receiving end of it. It only meant that whoever was on the receiving end was in big, big trouble.

Solomon didn’t need to ask what Skulduggery meant, but that didn’t mean he was going to obey just like that. So, when the first hit landed on his ass, he simply gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. It stung. Hell, it stung, but he wasn’t about to give up already. It was just one blow, and it wasn’t even that bad.

The next smack of the belt landed on his other cheek and managed to pull a sharp gasp from his tightly-closed lips. The smack echoed in the room and made him squeeze his eyes tighter shut. _‘Not that bad, not that bad,’_ he kept chanting to himself when Skulduggery let a third blow land on his ass.

“Where’s your pretty voice all of a sudden?” Skulduggery asked on a low, dangerous whisper, and Solomon felt his face heat up. Skulduggery Pleasant, thinking his voice was pretty? That was absurd. The only logical conclusion was that Skulduggery was mocking him. And _that_ made him angry. He didn’t take humiliation very well - he had been ridiculed and humiliated enough from when he was a child and all the way into his late twenties. His parents as well as other kids, teenagers, and young adults had mocked him mercilessly for his powers and his lanky figure. He had been a slow reader as well, which didn’t help anything.

Thinking of those memories fueled his anger, and it was a white-hot anger that gripped his heart tight enough to silence it.

“Piss off,” he snarled back and glanced at Skulduggery who hesitated for a fraction of a second before he pushed his arm further back and swung it forward. The leather belt landed on Solomon’s ass with a loud crack and forced a choked-off sound from his mouth. He pressed his forehead against the desk and bit his lower lip, refusing to say something. A sound or two, he could live with, but saying something? He would rather die.

“There it is,” Skulduggery said, and there was the slightest hint of amusement in his voice. Solomon was torn between wanting to punch him and wanting to give in to the beginning arousal. It wasn’t strong yet, but his dick was reacting to the blows by jerking every few seconds, and his throat was still too tight. His body trembled, and his palms were beginning to perspire.

“Shut up.” It wasn’t a plea, but it wasn’t far from. His voice was strained and tight and gruff, painting him as someone who actually _enjoyed_ this scenario. Which he didn’t want to admit that he did. That would just be too much, too humiliating.

Amazingly, Skulduggery obeyed. Solomon didn’t think that it was because he had asked him to but was absolutely certain that it was because Skulduggery didn’t want to actually talk to him. He didn’t blame him.

The next blow landed on his left cheek and wrenched a guttural sound from him, his body jerking with the pain. His ass was very warm and stung like fucking hell. It was a sort of warm and prickling kind of pain that made his cock jerk and get gradually harder.

He loathed it. But a part of him also loved it, found it nothing less than fantastic.

“I don’t hear you counting.”

“I would be worried if you were,” Solomon snarled, “because that would mean you were hallucinating. But you’ve tried that, haven’t you?”

Immediately, Skulduggery’s left hand was in his hair and yanked his head so hard and far back that his bones popped and creaked. He couldn’t help a pained moan and closed his eyes again, gritting his teeth.

“Your voice may be pretty, but I recommend you hold your tongue if you’re not going to count,” Skulduggery hissed, and for the first time tonight, Solomon heard the anger in his voice. It was hard and loud. Something about it made Solomon’s heart ache, and the arousal in his belly began growing. This was _absurd_!

“What are you going to do about it?” It was a dare that Solomon partly hoped Skulduggery would let go, partly hoped he would take. To his joy but also chagrin, Skulduggery took it.

“If you think I’m going to let you get away with just this, you’ve got another thing comin’.”

Solomon’s head was shoved forward and pressed painfully against the desk while Skulduggery’s other hand delivered another blow to his right cheek. This time, Solomon let out a pained whimper.

“O-One,” he whispered and felt his cheeks and neck heat up. When Skulduggery spoke, even if it was only two words, his voice was dripping with glee.

“Good boy.”

Solomon gasped sharply and involuntarily bucked his hips. His cock jerked, and a jolt of arousal went through him while his hands clenched into fists. This was just _not_ happening! But when Skulduggery spanked his ass again, and the sound reverberated in the study, Solomon was helpless but to moan.

“Two.”

Another blow, another pained gasp that stretched into a wanton sound, not far from a whimper. Solomon would have kicked himself if it was possible. As he risked a glance back at Skulduggery, he noticed little tendrils of shadows creep out from his sleeves and up from his shirt. They were thin and wispy, almost nebulous, and curled around his arms and wrists. Solomon’s eyes widened.

Vile was starting to come through.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and his face got pale. He suddenly felt nauseous, and yet, the arousal’s strong grip didn’t slacken. He tugged on the handcuffs - not that he hoped to achieve anything - and the shadows reached out to touch him tentatively. They were cold, colder than his own, and he shivered upon contact. He could feel the potential in them, the strength that just waited to be unleashed.

The belt met his ass again, and he let out a shaky moan.

“T-Three. I’m sorry, Skulduggery, I’m sorry for what I said earlier---”

Once more, Skulduggery’s belt came down on him, and Solomon tried to hold back the whimper, but it was futile.

“Four,” he whimpered and closed his eyes, focusing on the stinging pain on his ass and the coldness of the shadows reaching out and touching his arms, his neck, his shoulders. Their strength was undeniable, and while it filled him with dread to think about what they could do to him, it also made his cock throb and his heart skip several beats.

“Good boy,” Skulduggery said again, and his voice had dropped an octave, was still dripping with glee. Solomon’s entire body spasmed, and he bit his lower lip to prevent a shameful sound. He nearly came then and there.

“You’re doing so well.” A gasp escaped Solomon, and he could feel the tendrils start to grow thicker and touch him more explicitly. Some of them wrapped around his wrists, as if to ensure that his already tied hands would remain tied, while others pushed down between his shoulder blades to keep him pinned against the desk. Others again grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, forcing him to crane his neck. It didn’t take Solomon long to realize that the only thing touching him was Skulduggery’s shadows, and not his hands. His hands were clutching the belt, used all their strength to smack Solomon’s ass.

He began crying out the number of blows. His ass that already stung like a hive of wasps had attacked him was so warm and sore that he just _knew_ he wouldn’t be able to properly sit down for days. No doubt had the belt already left its clear marks. And yet the blows kept coming, making him tremble and cry and choke out the number.

By the time they reached twenty, Solomon was on the verge of breaking. The shadows had gotten so much stronger and thicker, and when he dared a glance, he saw that they were darker, denser, and they grew gradually colder the more they touched him. After five minutes of solid, non-stop fondling, Solomon’s teeth chattered, and he was cold all over.

“Twenty-one,” he whimpered and gritted his teeth hard together, hissing when shadows reached down to brush against his rock-hard, throbbing cock. He bucked into the touch and was rewarded with another bunch of shadows yanking his head further back. His mouth went slack, and he let out a sound not far from a sob.

“Twenty-two,” he practically wept when the next blow hit his left cheek. His knees were so weak, he was sure he would fall if it wasn’t for the shadows holding him up. The tendrils had forced his legs apart, and some had dived between the cleft of his ass and was now fondling his hole. It made his entire body jerk, and he tried to squirm away, but the other shadows held him in place. Some tendrils had wrapped themselves around his throat and slowly, but steadily tightened.

This was sick. It was sick to like this, and yet, here he was, trembling and panting like a dog in heat, with his cock bobbing between his legs and leaking pre-cum in thick drops.

The shadows withdrew from his dick, and he could have cried. The tension in his body was starting to become painful, his back altering between being tight and taut like a bowstring and being slack. Meanwhile, the tendrils playing with his ass had pushed inside him, and while it didn’t hurt - they didn’t possess a physical form and weight, after all - it was still the oddest sensation to have them thrusting in and out of his ass. It was like he tried to clamp down around nothing but was still being spread open.

He didn’t know if he liked it or not. But he figured that if Skulduggery was going to fuck him - which he probably was, once the façade was in place - this preparation was most likely going to save him some of the pain he would otherwise experience.

As he had expected, once Skulduggery grew tired of beating him with the belt, and once he had grown tired of Solomon’s gasping and whimpering, Skulduggery reached up to tap his tattoo, and skin crawled over his bones, giving him hair, lips, eyes, and the general features of a face, not to mention a fully functional cock.

“Talk to me,” Solomon whispered. His ass throbbed and stung like _hell_ , and he was certain that Skulduggery fucking him wouldn’t exactly help alleviate that. Skulduggery didn’t say a word, instead kept him open with his shadows and made them pin him harder down against the desk.

“Please,” Solomon continued, voice shaky and strained, “use your voice. I don’t care what you say, just, please, talk to me.” He looked back at Skulduggery as well as he could, and the skeleton detective looked absolutely indifferent, bordering on heartless. The blackness curled out from under his shirt and shrouded him in shadows, twisting his features and making him seem bigger than he was.

Solomon whimpered and let his eyes fall shut once more. He prepared for Skulduggery to penetrate him and did his best to relax, forcing his muscles to unclench and his fists to open. His toes uncurled. This proved to be a wise move, because in the next moment, he felt the warm, blunt head of Skulduggery’s cock press against his hole.

A flash of panic rose into his chest.

“You don’t have lube,” he whispered, knowing full well that Skulduggery didn’t care in the moment. Vile was quickly taking over, and Vile wasn’t pleasant. Vile didn’t care if he hurt him.

As he had expected, Vile didn’t take this into account. He pressed forward and forced his cock into Solomon who clenched his jaw and did his best to repress the pained howl that rose into his throat. It instead came out as a garbled sound that would haunt him for decades. Solomon bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood and tried yanking his hands free, only resulting in the thick, dense tendrils enclosing his wrists tighter.

The slow, painful glide of Vile’s cock pushing inside him seemed to take forever. But finally, he bottomed out within Solomon, and Solomon drew a heavy, shaky sigh. He only just then noticed that his entire body was covered in goosebumps as well as a thin sheen of sweat. He was trembling.

“T-Talk to me, please,” he tried again, but Vile’s shadows slammed his head against the desk and made his brain rattle in his skull. Solomon groaned, saw stars. The tendrils gripped his hair tightly, and the darkness around his throat tightened its grasp, making it harder to breathe. He let out a choked-off sound, and the second his mouth opened, the shadows released his throat to instead shove themselves between his parted lips.

Cold panic took hold of his heart as they threatened to choke him from within. He wanted to claw at his throat, but when he once more tried tugging on his restraints, he was pinned harder against the desk, and he let out a shredded sound.

Vile started pulling back, and the drag made Solomon ache, and he did his very best to relax, but it was so hard. He forced himself to unclench and slump against the desk, and while it helped slightly, it didn’t alleviate the burning, stinging sensation _in_ his ass.

It hurt, and it ached, but he found himself enjoying it all immensely. The belt lay across his ass, along with the throbbing, stinging pain creating a reminder of what had transpired. The tendrils pulled out of his mouth and wrapped around his throat again, making him gasp and heave for air. Vile chose that exact moment to force himself back inside Solomon, and a broken, startled cry stumbled past his lips.

Solomon wanted to say something, wanted to talk, but he didn’t know what to say to get Vile to listen to him, and with the shadows grabbing his throat, it was hard enough to breathe, let alone speak. So, he settled on silence. A silence that was only broken by his ragged moans and heavy panting. His sounds intensified when Vile sat a hard, fast pace, plunging into him over and over again, making him gasp and squirm on the desk.

“It hurts,” he finally managed to whimper, knowing full well that Vile wouldn’t listen to him, let alone care about his comfort.

“Good,” Vile whispered back, and his voice was dark and eerie, and it made Solomon’s small hairs stand on end. Had he had more brain capacity, he would have categorized Vile’s voice as ‘dangerous’ and ‘not to mess around with’, but as it was, he was too far gone to really care that Vile could kill him in an instant. A single thought, and he would be no more. The power Vile emitted was not one to take lightly, and yet, here Solomon was, wanting him to show him just _how_ powerful he was.

Vile’s cock hit against that special bundle of nerves inside him, and Solomon let out a strangled gasp. On pure instinct, and driven by the almost painful lust in his belly, he pushed back against Vile to get him to bump against that spot again. Vile merely laughed and wrenched his arms higher up on his back, making Solomon grimace and let out a weak curse. His body was so unbelievably taut, and he could feel all his muscles straining, could hear his heartbeat in his ears. His heart beat so fast it made him dizzy.

“Please,” he rasped, and loathed how weak his voice had become, “again, please.”

“I don’t think so,” came Vile’s smooth, slithering voice, and he picked up the pace to fuck Solomon roughly. His body slid slightly over the desk with each thrust, and a particular move made his eyes roll back in his head, coupled with a downright pathetic whimper.

“This is punishment, Solomon Wreath. You are not to enjoy it.”

“Y-Yes, sir,” Solomon whined low in his throat, “I’m sorry, sir.” When he said the word ‘sir’, he noticed a slight stagger in Vile’s thrusts. The shadows covering him and pinning him to the desk intensified and created a sort of blanket, covering him in cold and making him tremble even harder.

Vile lifted the belt to land another few blows on his ass, and Solomon howled out his pain-riddled pleasure, his eyes squeezed tightly shut and lips parted. He didn’t care that he was drooling. He only cared about the fact that Lord Vile was plowing into him like he was nothing else than a way of relief. Vile was fucking him like he didn’t deserve it, like he really wasn’t supposed to enjoy it.

But he did. Heavens, did he enjoy it! It was mortifying, but his cock was so hard and ready to burst that he was certain any single touch to his dick would set him off. But such a touch never came.

Vile fucked him to within an inch of his life, keeping his head pinned against the desk and pressing his hands against the small of his back while never ceasing the rough, painful pace. Solomon couldn’t do anything but take it and let out pathetic, mortifying sounds with each thrust.

Every once in a while, Vile would spank him again, and it only added to the intense pleasure Solomon was feeling. It was too much, and his hands clenched while his toes curled almost painfully, and he was _seconds_ away from coming when Vile stopped thrusting. A pitiful whimper left him, and he tried pushing back against Vile, but Vile slapped his face with the back of his hand. Solomon groaned and dared open his eyes to look at Vile.

He looked perfectly in control. Calm, collected, composed. Didn’t look like he had been fucking Solomon for however long.

“Tsk-tsk-tsk,” he tutted and let the tendrils run through his hair before letting go. Solomon lifted his head to look at Vile and was surprised when he found his vision fuzzy and white around the edges. He still felt dizzy, and his heart was still beating at a nauseating pace.

“Please,” Solomon pleaded and pushed back against him again, received another backhanded slap to his face.

“Are you begging, _pet_?” Vile whispered and leaned in over him, crowding him against the desk and making him feel so small and delicate. His cock throbbed.

“ _Please_ ,” Solomon whispered. Vile laughed roughly and gave a light thrust. Solomon whimpered, and he wanted so desperately to shove a fist in his mouth to stop those humiliating sounds from spilling out. But the handcuffs were tight, and the tendrils tighter still.

“I will finish off in you,” Vile murmured into his ear, and Solomon shuddered, let out a feeble moan. Vile meant it.

He began thrusting again, hard and fast and merciless, and he made sure to avoid the bundle of nerves that made Solomon see stars. It drove Solomon up the wall, but he couldn’t do anything about it. All he could do was lay there and let Vile fuck him like he was a piece of meat. Which, for all he knew, he was.

Vile came within a few minutes, and just like he had promised, he spurted thick ropes of cum into Solomon who whimpered and squirmed the slight bit he could. It was warm and sticky, and despite his currently limited brain capacity, he cringed inwardly - he wasn’t a fan of bodily fluids.

Then, barely two seconds after he had finished, Vile pulled out, and Solomon leaned in over the desk to avoid falling to the ground. He panted heavily and tried grinding against the desk for friction. Any little touch would do him in, and he was _desperate_ to come. He glanced back at Vile who was still shrouded in darkness, thick and sharp tendrils dancing and curling around him. He didn’t look like he had just finished off.

“Sir,” Solomon said meekly and pressed his forehead against the desk, body and voice trembling, “please, sir, can I come?”

Vile chuckled darkly and ran a tendril over his shaft, making him gasp and push desperately into the shadow. But just like that, it was gone again.

“You need to learn humility, Solomon Wreath. Maybe when you know your place.”

And with those words, Vile unlocked his handcuffs, walked out of the study, and left Solomon to struggle with his current state. He wanted so desperately to touch himself - he _knew_ he was five strokes, tops, from coming - but Vile’s words had been said so threateningly that he didn’t dare. Plus, it wasn’t nearly as fun with his own hand.

He slowly slid down the desk and stared with bleary eyes at the doorframe.

He was in too deep.

* * *

Solomon got a cab to drive him back to the Temple. Nobody questioned why he was home so late - his wristwatch read almost midnight - but instead let him go straight to his room. Here, he carefully sat down on his bed with his back against the metal headboard. He breathed deeply and heavily, trying to shake off the tremors of his body. He felt… odd. Not only couldn’t he stop trembling, but he felt empty and anxious. He felt like he was going to fall apart at any given moment, and he didn’t know how to handle that - he had never felt this way before.

He tried touching himself, but in the time it had taken for him to come home, his erection had died down, and now he couldn’t get it back up. His mind was too preoccupied with these feelings of panic and dread. All he could think about was those feelings, and Skulduggery. Whenever his mind momentarily wandered to him, Solomon felt a wave of calm wash over him, but then it was overpowered by anxiety and unease, dragging him down into cold darkness.

He was painfully aware that he was alone, and that he, for the first time, wished to _not_ be alone.

Solomon pulled out his phone and found Skulduggery’s number. With skeletal fingers hovering over the green call button, he was fighting an inner war. Was this wise? Skulduggery had, just a few hours ago, been pushed into becoming Lord Vile. Who knew how long it took for him to shake off the shadows and darkness in his mind.

But the prospect of _not_ calling Skulduggery nearly made Solomon cry. He felt a ball of _something_ in his throat and swallowed heavily. It didn’t go away.

He pressed the call button and held the phone to his ear. Waited for the ringing to be replaced by Skulduggery’s voice. He didn’t have to wait long, but while the greeting was what he expected, it wasn’t what he needed.

“Wreath. Haven’t you bothered me enough already? What do you want?”

Solomon couldn’t utter a single word, instead only choked out a broken sound and put a hand over his mouth to silence himself. But the damage had been done - Skulduggery had heard him.

“Solomon? What’s wrong?” Skulduggery’s voice immediately took on a worried lilt, “What’s the matter?”

He shook his head, as if Skulduggery could see him, and merely made another sound behind his hand. What _was_ wrong with him? He didn’t know, but he didn’t like it.

When Skulduggery spoke again, his voice had gone soft and gentle. “Where are you? Tell me where you are, I’ll pick you up.”

“Temple,” Solomon managed to croak out, and he loathed his voice in that moment. It was so weak and shaky.

“Stay in your room. Stay safe. I’ll be there soon.”

Skulduggery waited for Solomon to hang up. When the phone lay on his bed, Solomon leaned back against the headboard, feeling absolutely drained. He was so tired, so exhausted that it ached in his bones, but his mind was racing, and he couldn’t settle on a single thought. They were all running through his mind at an unprecedented speed, and it made him nauseous.

He didn’t know how long it took. He just knew that at one point, he received a text from Skulduggery that read, “I’m outside.” With concrete slaps for feet and hands, Solomon dragged himself up from the bed and went to the entrance to the Temple. Quite as expected, the oh so familiar and gleaming Bentley was parked right outside. Skulduggery stood by the passenger seat. The moment he saw Solomon, he opened the door, waited patiently for him to stagger over, and helped him sit down in the seat.

“Valkyrie doesn’t like when people adjust her seat,” he said while still standing beside the passenger seat, “but you have my permission to do it.”

Solomon nodded lightly and adjusted the seat so his legs could comfortably fit. Skulduggery closed the door with a soft smack before walking to the other side and sliding into the driver’s seat. He put the car in gear, and they drove off.

For the entire ride, Solomon pressed himself against the door. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but it was clear that Skulduggery knew, which would have normally pissed Solomon off. Now, however, all it meant was that he let out a soft sound and bit down on his fist. Skulduggery sent him a glance before focusing on the road again.

“Almost there,” he said. His voice was so gentle. Solomon couldn’t remember having heard it so gentle before. At least not when speaking to _him_. He nodded again and looked out the window. Everything rushed by too quickly, even if they weren’t driving much faster than the speed limit.

When they arrived at their location, Skulduggery got out of the car and walked to Solomon’s side, opened the door, and helped him out with an arm under his shoulder. Solomon felt like concrete had been strapped to his feet and poured into his lungs. It was hard to walk, harder still to breathe.

“What’s… happening?” he whispered and looked to Skulduggery. He was very certain that everything he was feeling could be read on his face. Normally, he was so good at keeping up appearances that no one could guess what mood he was in, but now, that was impossible. He felt so weak, and that was not something he was used to.

“Sub drop,” Skulduggery simply said, as if that explained everything, and helped him inside his house, taking it as slow as Solomon needed. His legs trembled, and he felt sickly weak. They finally made it up the stairs and into a big bedroom, and Skulduggery gently but firmly led him to the bed where he laid down and scooted to one side.

“Lay down with me.”

Solomon was unsure what this would achieve, but he nonetheless obeyed. The bed was wonderfully soft and dipped lightly under him. When he laid on his back, a respectful distance from Skulduggery, the skeleton detective slid close and once more with gentle but firm hands moved his head so it rested against his shoulder.

As if this was the magic touch, Solomon started crying. He curled up on his side with his head on Skulduggery’s shoulder and a hand fisted in his shirt. Skulduggery didn’t seem to mind - quite the contrary. He began stroking Solomon’s shoulder slowly with his fingertips while tears flowed freely from Solomon’s eyes. He made soft, soothing sounds and every once in a while squeezed Solomon closer to him.

Skulduggery didn’t say anything. He simply let Solomon cry out, and as the tears streamed down his face, Solomon started feeling calmer. The tension gradually left his body, and inhaling Skulduggery’s scent proved to be more calming than he would have liked to admit if he had been himself. As it was, however, he didn’t _feel_ like himself.

He whimpered out the skeleton detective’s name and clutched his shirt tighter. In turn, Skulduggery hushed him softly and tilted his head to look at him. Solomon instantly leaned up to kiss him, trembling and stained with tears as he was. Skulduggery returned it, soft and gentle just like the rest of him. Solomon couldn’t hold it for long before he broke out in a sob that shook his entire body. Skulduggery wrapped both arms around him and held him close while Solomon’s hand started roaming his body. Started at his chest, moved to his collarbone and shoulder before sliding low to grab his narrow waist and bony hips. Fingers splayed as wide as possible, desperate to touch Skulduggery and know that _he was there_.

“It’s alright, Solomon,” Skulduggery then said, and Solomon captured his lips in another kiss, just as soft and kind as the first one. Their lips pressed gently against each other, and combined with being allowed to touch Skulduggery everywhere, Solomon gradually started relaxing. The tension just… seemed to fizzle out of his body. One of Skulduggery’s hands moved into his hair while the other stroked his shoulder.

“You’re safe now. It’s alright.” Solomon nodded weakly and closed his eyes, breaking the kiss to let his head flop down on Skulduggery’s shoulder.

Skulduggery’s hand rested in his unruly, black hair for a little while before withdrawing. In doing so, he brushed his fingers over Solomon’s belly, and Solomon gasped softly, then hid in Skulduggery’s shoulder. A light blush had crawled onto his face.

Skulduggery chuckled softly.

“Do you like that?” he asked in the same hushed, gentle tone. Solomon shook his head, but when Skulduggery began stroking his belly, he couldn’t stave off a soft sound of equal parts embarrassment and contentment. Without really knowing that he did it, Solomon turned on his back to let Skulduggery touch him, and the detective didn’t waste the opportunity. His hand slid up and down Solomon’s flat belly, fingertips pressing slightly firmer every now and then. He slipped his palm under his shirt and let it dance across the warm skin, and Solomon felt his cheeks burn hotter. It was so good, but so embarrassing.

Skulduggery’s hand was gentle in its exploration, and the more he touched, the more Solomon relaxed. It came to a point where he dozed off. His shadows came out, curling and furling around him as if to create a protective cocoon. The last thing he noticed was his shadows touching another set of black tendrils emanating from Skulduggery.

As their shadows touched, he was overcome with a feeling of safety, of security. It washed over him in a massive wave, drowning him in the best of ways.

At some point during his slumber, Solomon was certain he felt someone snuggle against him from the other side, but he was beyond exhausted and couldn’t be bothered to care.

That was a - potential - problem for the future.


	2. Chapter 2

When Solomon Wreath woke up, it was to movement behind him. He immediately sat up and reached out to the side to get his cane, but it wasn’t there. He hadn’t gotten eyes yet, and he fumbled around to find it, but to no avail.

“Easy, easy,” came a soft, soothing voice that he recognized as Valkyrie Cain. Solomon stopped fumbling for his cane and instead opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to get the view into focus. He didn’t succeed.

“Valkyrie?” he croaked. Then there was a hand gently pushing him back against the mattress. A mattress that was considerably softer than his own. And as he touched the duvet and pillow behind him, he noticed that they were also much softer than his own. He wasn’t at the Temple - he was somewhere else. But where, he couldn’t figure out. His brain wasn’t working properly yet.

“Mornin’,” came a smooth, deep voice to his right, and he whipped his head in the direction, once more blinking rapidly. Finally, the world focused and stood clearly in his vision, and he saw Skulduggery Pleasant lie beside him, a hand on Solomon’s belly and the other holding his phone. He looked very relaxed, even without his façade in place.

Solomon’s brain worked in overdrive to try and piece the puzzle together. Apparently, he was in Skulduggery’s house, in his bedroom, and Valkyrie was here as well as the detective himself. What the _hell_ had happened last night?

He squirmed a bit on the bed, and a twinge of pain startled him. His ass was sore and stung like he had been attacked by a hive of wasps. That made the memories jostle into place - he had come over the night before because Skulduggery had wanted to punish him for pointing out the connection between him and Vile. It had been a rough scene, and when he had finished, Skulduggery had left Solomon in the study to take care of himself. Solomon had gone home, and he had experienced an intense bout of loneliness and anxiety that he had never experienced before. Then he had called Skulduggery, and he had picked him up and taken him back to his place, and they had gone to bed.

Now it was morning, and despite the deep, dream-less sleep, Solomon was still exhausted. His entire body was sore and hurt, but his ass was the worst. It stung and throbbed lightly, making him release a soft groan as he laid down and closed his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Valkyrie asked and ran a gentle hand through his hair, snuggling closer into him. Her voice was so kind and sweet, her body warm and soft.

Solomon frowned lightly. How _was_ he feeling? He was exhausted, and his mind felt foggy and hazy. His limbs were heavy, and it felt as if concrete had been strapped to his extremities. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton balls when he opened it to explain this to Skulduggery and Valkyrie. They both nodded, and Skulduggery began stroking his belly again. Slowly and tenderly, making Solomon blush and turn his head to hide his face in Valkyrie’s shoulder. Valkyrie had her hand in his hair and rubbed his scalp.

She chuckled softly as he hid in her shoulder, and when Skulduggery touched his face, it was with warm and naked fingers instead of cold bones. Solomon turned his head to look at him, and Skulduggery leaned in to kiss him. He let out a feeble sound and kissed him back while Valkyrie kept stroking his hair and rubbing his scalp. Skulduggery’s hand became more insistent on Solomon’s belly, and Solomon blushed harder, reaching out to fist his hand in the detective’s shirt while the other rested on Valkyrie’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Skulduggery said after a little while of silence. Solomon smiled softly.

“I wouldn’t have reacted any differently,” he said and kissed him again, light and chaste. Skulduggery returned it while humming quietly and stroking his belly. “There’s no hard feelings.” Skulduggery nodded and deepened the kiss for a few seconds before pulling back. Still, he didn’t seem entirely convinced that everything was fine.

“I shouldn’t have… let Vile touch you. He’s violent.”

“You were the one belting me, not Vile,” Solomon pointed out, and before Skulduggery could counterargue, he continued, “but it’s alright. I forgive you. I promise there’s no hard feelings.” Skulduggery looked at him with an indecipherable expression on his face before giving a light nod. His hand disappeared from Solomon’s stomach, and Solomon couldn’t stave off a soft whine.

They were all silent for a few minutes, Valkyrie stroking his hair and massaging his scalp while Solomon in return stroked her shoulder. Skulduggery had scooted a bit away from them, but still close enough that his elbows touched Solomon’s. He seemed deep in thought.

Just when Solomon was about to ask what he was thinking of, Skulduggery opened his mouth.

“Why me, though?”

Solomon blinked.

“Pardon?”

Skulduggery chewed on his lower lip, and it was the first sign of agitation that Solomon had seen in him.

“You called me, of all people. The very person who had hurt you. Why not call Valkyrie? It’s no secret how crazy you are about her, it seems more logical that you would have called her.” There was a light, very light, hint of disdain in his voice as he spoke, but his expression was peaceful, and he looked at Solomon with a light frown between his brows.

Solomon swallowed heavily. This was it, wasn’t it? The moment he would confess his feelings for the detective, even if he wasn’t sure himself what they meant. He could feel his heart start to beat faster in his chest, and he suddenly felt nauseous all over again. He sat up and fought away the discomfort of doing so, staring down at his hands. Didn’t want to face the others when he said these things.

Solomon sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

“I… don’t know,” he admitted. The others remained silent. “I guess I just… you were the last person I had seen, and thinking of you brought a sense of calm, in a way. I was deep in despair, and the thought of you, Skulduggery, made me feel a special kind of calm and warm. My mind didn’t even go to Valkyrie. Sorry about that, by the way,” he added and heard a soft chuckle from Valkyrie, “but I think I just needed reassurance that you don’t hate me.”

Skulduggery didn’t say a word. Solomon opened his eyes again and looked at him. When no words came, Solomon kept going.

“I mean, I know you hate me. We’re enemies,” a sharp twinge of pain stabbed through his heart, “but we have done things together that enemies definitely don’t. I guess I’m feeling… confused. Why would you agree to do these things with me if you hated me?”

_‘He’s manipulating you_ ,’ a small voice in the back of his head whispered. Solomon forced it away and was about to continue when Skulduggery opened his mouth.

“I don’t… hate you.” It was a soft mutter and muttered like it was the most reckless curse Skulduggery had ever said. Solomon’s heart shot up into his throat, and he stared at the detective who sighed deeply. He didn’t look at Solomon, instead found his own hands incredibly fascinating.

“It began as pure, unadulterated hatred, that is correct. You took Valkyrie under your wing and taught her a discipline I had tried to keep her away from. I wanted to murder you, and for the longest time, I dreamt of ways to take your life. I suppose I was afraid you would take away the one person who mattered to me.”

“That,” Solomon whispered, “was never my intention. I didn’t want to---”

Skulduggery held up a hand, and Solomon fell silent. The hand in his hair had stopped moving.

“Then there was the Requiem ball, and the hatred grew stronger. Now I was sure I was going to murder you next chance I got. But things went another way than expected.” He grew silent, watching his hands, twisting and turning them while doing everything in his power to _not_ glance at Solomon. Solomon, whose heart seemed to have stopped beating. Solomon, whose hands trembled slightly. Solomon, whose breathing had accelerated.

Skulduggery didn’t continue. Solomon cleared his throat and picked up where Skulduggery had left off.

“I hated you with every fiber of my being,” he mumbled and had to laugh - how ridiculous! Used to hate the great skeleton detective, and now, here he was, in his bed after a too rough session? “But with the things we’ve done, I’ve started to… not hate you as much. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Try anyway,” said Valkyrie softly and began petting his hair again. Solomon nodded, and abruptly, his throat seemed to tighten. Why did it always do that?

“I… I like being in your presence,” he began, voice soft and quiet and eyes focused on his hands, “and I want you to like being in my presence, too. I don’t expect it to happen, but I can’t deny that it… gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling in my gut. I think about you, and instead of feeling cold, raging anger and revulsion, I feel warm and tingly. It sounds so silly. Oh my god, it’s so stupid, isn’t it?” He laughed again and put his hands on his face. Valkyrie stroked his back up and down slowly, kept him grounded.

“I enjoy your company,” he continued, “I’ve even started to like your snarky comments. They don’t make me want to bash your face in anymore. It’s so bizarre, I can’t explain why, but it’s… it’s true.” As he spoke, Solomon could feel his heart beat faster, and his palms were getting slightly damp with sweat. This was what was going to make them kick him out, he was sure of it. It was too preposterous - he was crushing on the very person who had sworn him an enemy all those centuries ago. That was when it made sense to him - he was crushing. _Crushing_. On Skulduggery Pleasant. He let his hands fall onto the bed and stared at them, eyes wide. It made perfect sense - the way he had found pleasure in his voice, in his hands. The way he wished Skulduggery wouldn’t kick him out and away. The way he wished for Skulduggery to touch him just a moment longer.

It all made sense. And it scared him. It terrified him. Ice-cold fear gripped his heart in a vice, and he bolted out of the bed, staring at Skulduggery and Valkyrie with wide, fearful eyes. They both got up and out of bed and reached out their hands as if to placate him.

“It’s okay,” Valkyrie said, her voice soft but not void of shock, “it’s alright, Solomon. Calm down.”

Solomon gripped his hair tightly and shook his head, as if he could shake them away if he did it violently enough. Valkyrie was the first to reach him, gripping his wrists firmly and rubbing them. Skulduggery had moved behind him and touched his shoulders, stroking firmly.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Solomon got his breathing under control, and he let his hands drop from his hair, lifted his head to look at Valkyrie. She smiled gently to him.

“And you, Valkyrie… where do I even begin? My favourite student, a magnificent girl. I never would have thought I could come to cherish you as I do now. My heart soars when I look at you. And to know that you have chosen me to be your mentor, that you have let me do the things I have to you, it… it fills my body with warmth and ecstasy.”

Valkyrie blushed lightly and giggled, looking away. Solomon smiled softly.

“Both of you. You have enrichened my life, even if it started out with hatred and competition.” He turned his head to look at Skulduggery. Skulduggery was smiling as well, even if it was a small one.

“Before this turns into a sob fest,” the detective said, and both Solomon and Valkyrie laughed, “I would like to make it clear that my house, from now on, is always open to you, Solomon.” He said it slowly, like he was weighing every word carefully. His hands squeezed Solomon’s shoulders a bit firmer. “And I would also like to mention that Valkyrie and I have been discussing this possibility. The three of us being an item. I don’t have to like it yet, but I know it would make Valkyrie happy. And as much as I hate to admit it, I also want to make _you_ happy, Solomon.”

Solomon couldn’t believe he was hearing this. Were his ears full of cerumen? Had he died? This was too good to be true. But Skulduggery looked completely serious, even if he had a small smile playing on his lips. Solomon cleared his throat and looked between them.

“So, you’re… you’re not going to kick me out?” he asked. They both shook their heads. “And neither of you hate me?” They shook their heads again. “And we can all be a couple?” They nodded.

The news hadn’t settled yet, not completely, but still, it made a dopey smile breach his face, and it slowly turned into a grin. He reached out to grab Valkyrie with one arm while the other went behind him to get Skulduggery, and he pulled both of them into a tight hug.

Everything seemed to turn out okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed <3


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